The Shieikan Dojo Years
by The Wandering Pen
Summary: A collection - hopefully - of stories about the Shinsengumi characters before they become the Shinsengumi.


Shinpachi Gets A Lesson

The Wandering Pen

Nagakura Shinpachi was feeling pretty good. It was a nice spring day, not too hot or too cold, the sun was out, and he'd attracted the attention of a handful of pretty girls just by walking past their homes or businesses. Absolutely nothing wrong with that. His carroty hair tended to attract attention and that was always best if it came from pretty girls. Maybe he'd stop and talk to one on the way back. The one in the shop with the kimono collars was cute – perhaps a bit shy, since she only peeked around the corner of the door at him. It might be hard to strike up a conversation with her, considering he had no use for a kimono collar at this time. It might be easier with that waitress at the new restaurant – she had bold eyes. He'd heard they served Western food there, which might be worth trying and it would be a nice introduction.

'Focus,' he told himself sternly. 'First get through the fight, then worry about the girls.'

He was on his way to a dojo he'd just heard about, the Shieikan. Small but tough, someone had said, and Shinpachi was looking for a new challenge. He'd bested every other Tokyo dojo's master and highest ranked students and he was bored. It was tough being the best in town – there were no challenges left. He might have to move to Kyoto and see what they had to offer. He probably would. He didn't think this dojo would be different from the rest. It certainly was in the back of beyond; what could it have to offer? Still, the countryside was nice, with some blooms still left on the sakura along the road. It was worth the walk, anyway.

When he reached the dojo, he was less than impressed. Though the wall showed signs of repair and the name plate was smartly painted, his immediate thought was that it really needed to be knocked down and started over. No amount of patching was going to keep that wall standing much longer, and he had to search for a relatively smooth place to knock on the wooden gate to avoid splinters that the thick coat of paint couldn't completely cover.

The man who answered his knock was old – had to be over forty. His hair was in a topknot, tail oiled and fastened over a neatly shaven pate, but some of his side hair was disheveled and he was perspiring in the spring sun. He squinted past a bulbous nose at his visitor.

"Yes? Can I help you?"

"My name is Nagakura Shinpachi, Menkyo kaiden of the Shinto Munen Ryu. I am here to fight your dojo's best swordsman."

"Oh. Please wait; I will get Sensei." The older man bowed and closed the gate.

Shinpachi could hear the purposeful slap of sandals as the man went to get the dojo's master and revised his age estimate up another ten years. A younger man would have been running. This man was probably the gardener or something, although come to think of it, he had been wearing a sword. At least he wouldn't be considered the dojo's best; not as old and slow as he appeared.

When the gate opened again, an even older man was standing there. They exchanged bows.

"I am Kondo Shusuke, master of this dojo. Please come in."

"Thank you. I am here to challenge your best swordsman."

"So I understand. For what purpose?"

Shinpachi was taken aback. Whatever did he mean? There was no other purpose than to decide who was best, and it was the entire reason anyone fought anyone else. It wasn't like there were any real battles to fight. But when he said as much, Kondo just smiled and said nothing more until they reached what was obviously the training hall.

Half a dozen students sat along one long wall of the room, watching the practice of two men in the middle. Shinai and bokken were neatly racked on one short wall furthest from them, while the closer one held a plaque with the name of the school, another with its tenants, and several more displaying the names of master and students. All were done in a neat, artistic calligraphy. The floor was smooth and appeared recently buffed, except in the middle where practice had already dulled its sheen. Shinpachi ignored all of it except the two men in the center.

Likely looking prospects, both of them. The shorter one was solidly built, with a wide, rustic face that appeared stern yet friendly. His hair was tonsured and tied in the traditional manner, but more neatly than the gateman's had been despite his exercise. His movements were precise, powerful, and deceptively fast. The taller one was splendidly built with broad shoulders, trim waist, and long legs. His hair was in a high topknot, but flowed loosely after that, whipping about as he sparred with the shorter man. His face was handsome, with set features and sharply focused eyes, but his movements were a little wild. Shinpachi noted stances and techniques that were unorthodox for most sword styles. The taller one, then, was the lower-ranked student.

Kondo Shusuke halted the training and Shinpachi realized that the gateman had returned, followed by a teenager, and both were standing next to the dojo's master.

"Gentlemen," Kondo addressed the room, "This is Nagakura Shinpachi-san, from the Shinto Munen Ryu. He has come to challenge our best swordsman. Kondo Isami-kun, Hijikata-san, you may take a break."

The two men in the middle bowed to Kondo, then to each other and crossed the floor to stand near Kondo.

"Okita-kun, I have selected you to fight him. Please observe all the rules for a competition."

"Hai, Sensei." The teenager bowed and crossed the dojo to the far wall, selecting a shinai from the rack and returning to the center of the room. His movements were fluid and energetic, with lightness in his step that made him bounce a little.

"Wait, you want me to spar the kid? No thanks; I want your best. Him, I think," Shinpachi said, pointing at the younger Kondo. He missed the flash of annoyance in Okita's grey eyes.

"Spar the brat and then we'll see if you're good enough for the rest of us," the taller man said before either Kondo could respond. Nagakura bristled at his arrogant attitude.

"Ma, ma, Hijikata-san," Kondo Shusuke said. "We must be polite to our guest. I will not have it said that the members of the Tennen Rishin Ryu have no manners." He turned to Shinpachi. "Okita Soujiro is my chosen champion for the day. If he is not acceptable, you may take your challenge elsewhere."

"Fine. Tell you what," Shinpachi said. "The kid first, then him, then him." He jerked his thumb towards Okita, and then pointed in turn to Kondo Isami and Hijikata, glaring at the last. "I'm going to enjoy beating the crap out of you."

"In your dreams," Hijikata said, and then he glanced at the teenager in the middle of the room and laughed.

"Would you like armor?" Kondo Shusuke asked as Shinpachi slid his shinai out of the case that was slung over his shoulder.

"It'll take longer to get into it than this bout is going to last," Shinpachi said shortly. He was annoyed at the tall one's comment and wished he'd asked for him after the teenager. That Hijikata needed some serious ass-kicking and he, Nagakura Shinpachi, was just the man to do it.

"Soujiro-kun?" Kondo asked.

"I agree with him," the boy said, his voice light and soft.

Internally, Shinpachi sneered. 'Couldn't be more than fifteen, if he's a day. His voice has probably just broken. Just a freakin' big-eyed kid.'

He faced his opponent and the performed the beginning rituals of the contest in mirror image: bowing, kneeling, and standing. Finally, they were at the ready and Shinpachi raised his shinai into a head strike position. Okita's was in a guard position and Shinpachi feinted, noting the easy movement of the other's weapon to block. 'Gotcha.' He thought, whipping his shinai back to strike from the side.

The tap on his ribs was wholly unexpected; light enough not to hurt, firm enough to let him know it could have been much harder.

'Huh?' he thought, as Kondo Shusuke said, "First point to Okita-san."

'Ooookay, so the kid knows a trick or two. Let's see if he knows this one.'

They feinted at each other several times before Shinpachi tried another technique. Once again, Okita moved faster than he anticipated and the shinai tapped him on top of the head. As they returned to the center of the room, Shinpachi eyed his opponent. This was a trick, somehow, but he wasn't quite sure how, and the frustration was beginning to wear on him. He hadn't had two points against him without making any kind of response since he was a teenager himself. The entire concept was ludicrous and it certainly didn't speak well for his school for him to come here and challenge them and lose so ridiculously to someone who still needed his mother's help to blow his nose.

It was time for the next round and they feinted at each other again, Shinpachi much more wary this time than he had been. Okita's face was as bland as rice gruel, his odd pale eyes flat and unreadable. It was hard to predict what he might do, but Shinpachi waited. Let him make the first strike this time. Eventually he did, and Nagakura was happy, and relieved, to find he was capable of turning the strikes aside. His counter-attacks were ineffective, but he meant them more to feel out his opponent than to actually make a strike. The kid was amazingly fast. There was nothing for it; his favorite and best technique would have to be used to have a chance here.

'A dragon strikes with his tail when his head is attacked and with his head when his tail is attacked,' he thought. 'Let the kid make the move and then counter it the other way.'

Okita's blade was up, nominally in a head strike position, so Shinpachi angled his down, guarding, while he turned his body to have his side more towards his opponent rather than facing him. He was a smaller target this way, with less to protect and still plenty of room to move.

'When he strikes, block and strike back in the same movement. Yes!' he exulted as Soujiro committed a to a head strike. 'Block and…wha?'

The block missed. Rather, there was nothing there to block. Two hard strikes, one in each shoulder and so fast that they seemed almost to happen at the same time, knocked him off balance and sent him staggering until he tripped and fell on his back, rapping his skull on the wooden floor. The world went dark and spotty. Dimly, he could hear Kondo-sensei's voice.

"Soujiro! What have I told you about control in the dojo?"

"I'm sorry, Sensei. I'm still working on that counter-attack and it's not as controlled as it should be yet."

"Then don't use it."

"But it was the perfect opportunity, Sensei. He used the Ryubi no Ken – who would have thought he knew that? If I practice against anyone here, I always know it's coming, so it's really hard to make sure the counter works."

Counter? Was he kidding? No one could counter the Ryubi no Ken; that was the whole point of it. But somehow he had, and it hurt.

"Are you okay?"

Shinpachi was suddenly aware that Okita was leaning over him, big grey eyes no longer opaque, but worried.

"I'm really sorry. I didn't mean to hit that hard, but I get a little carried away sometimes."

"I…ow."

"Can you stand?" Kondo Isami asked, holding a hand down to him. "Let's get you out into better light so Toshi-kun can look at your head. You hit pretty hard."

Shinpachi let him and Okita help him out to the front porch of the dojo while Hijikata brought out his medicine box. Kondo Shusuke checked with them and received a reassurance that they'd take care of the visitor, and then returned to the students in the dojo. Okita disappeared, but the others introduced themselves.

"He's Kondo-sensei's adopted son and the dojo's next master. He goes by 'Isami' now, but he'll always be Katchan to some of us," Hijikata said, pointing at his short sparring partner. "So don't be surprised if you hear him called that."

"I've been called worse," Kondo joked.

"Haven't we all?" Shinpachi said. "It comes with a certain skill level."

"And other things," Hijikata said.

"So are you the dojo's doctor?"

"Sort of. I'm Hijikata Toshizou, of Ishida village. I sell medicine for the family and yeah, I know how to use it all. I travel a lot, but I try to get here as many days as I can during the week. It just depends on my route. I get in some sparring and fix up whoever needs fixing."

"Ah."

Okita returned bearing a tray with teapot and cups. Nagakura observed his approach while Hijikata probed through Shinpachi's short red hair.

"Just how old are you?" Shinpachi asked abruptly, noting Okita's shoulders and chest. A young teen wouldn't be as filled out there as this young man was.

"Nineteen," Okita said, setting down the tray and grinning. It lit his face and made him look even younger.

"Crap, I thought you were fifteen or something. Especially since this one called you 'brat'."

"He's called me brat for nine years."

"Because you are one, and you've always been one." Hijikata stopped probing. "Nothing hurt but your dignity, I suspect. You'll probably have a killer headache later." He opened a drawer in the medicine box and took out a folded packet of paper. "Put this in your tea and it'll stave off the worst of it."

Okita waited until Nagakura had complied and took a swallow. At the redhead's expression, he said helpfully. "Of course it's going to make your tea taste like horse dung."

"Thanks. Thanks a lot." Shinpachi suddenly found himself grinning as the other three laughed. These guys were all right, really. If the other two were even better than Okita, he'd have plenty of challenge here.

"I'd like to come back, next week maybe," he offered.

"Anytime," they said in unison.

"We always appreciate fresh blood," Hijikata added.

"Okay, you next time."

"Nah-uh. The deal is, you've got to get through him first," Hijikata said, pointing at Okita. "Then Katchan, then me. That's the way you wanted it."

"I want to change the order."

"Too late, you're locked in. Besides, the brat has to practice that…whatever he calls that move."

"Ni-dan-zuki," Okita said promptly. "I'd like to make it three strikes, but I haven't worked in the third yet."

"Okay, but armor next time," Shinpachi said, rubbing his shoulder. "It might save me some bruises. And I want to see how you do it."

"Deal."

Shinpachi took his leave shortly after that, a little slower and a little less cocky, but not displeased, overall. He'd made some new friends and there was some real talent there.

Kondo Isami, Hijikata, and Okita watched him walk down the road from the gate.

"He's not so bad once he stops strutting and starts thinking," Souji said.

"He's thinking we're pretty formidable," Kondo said. "That'll increase the prestige of the dojo."

"I wonder how he's going to take it when he finds out Souji really is our best," Hijikata grinned.

"Don't worry about it. He'll never get through me." Souji shrugged, unconcerned.

"Huh. Brat."

They laughed as they closed the gate and returned to the training hall.

~Owari~

A/N:

Okay, I know it's not what I should be working on, but it just popped into my head and there is was, almost fully formed. I love that when it happens. Anyway, I thought it would be fun to play with the guys before they became Shinsengumi, and really, I can do almost anything I want here, since the manga doesn't speak to their backgrounds at all. I have drawn a bit from the historical and a bit from the manga "Getsu Mei Seiki". Hijikata frequently calls Okita "brat" in that one. It seems to fit. Let me know what you think. I love reviews! Seriously, folks, I really do!


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